Cyprus is an Island falls into three distinct parts. The opening section of the film has the dual function of outlining the island’s history while also highlighting the difference between the British Empire and those who have ruled Cyprus before. As the camera pans slowly over predominantly desolate scenes, the commentator states, ‘Cyprus is like a ring which has passed hand to hand of changing Empires: Phoenician, Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Venetian, Ottoman – she’s been worn by them all’. As each major epoch is recalled we hear variations on the refrain ‘But of the people, at that time, we know nothing’. This absence is symbolised by the recurring motif of an empty pair of peasant’s shoes.

British rule is different. The chronological narrative reaches the point where ‘Cyprus, now, is an island of the British Commonwealth and these are her people’. At the word ‘Commonwealth’ the camera films more verdant plains, at the word ‘people’ the empty shoes are filled. They are worn by a young boy, who is leading a donkey towards Nicosia. Over scenes of the capital the narrative now informs us of the rich cultural mix of the island. Keene writes that here the local authorities requested ‘Crowded streets . . . teeming markets . . . busy thoroughfares’. However, it was June and the city was deserted. The team compensated with ‘a liberal use of “insert” shots of posters, street signs and placards’ (Keene, 1947, 75).

The second and major section of the film fictionalises scenes that Lee encountered during his tour of the island. In this semi-comic parable Vassos, an anarchist goatherd, comes up short against Nikos, an organized local farmer who draws upon village rule to ban free-ranging goats from the locality. Vassos goes on to a wild career of arson in the forest and eventual imprisonment. During these forest scenes the policy of removing goats to protect saplings and of relocating village communities is described in a positive manner. The narrative states that these changes are necessary because ‘the forest was the wealth of the whole community and the trees must be protected’. The government is carrying out this measure by ‘patient persuasion’.

The scenes of village farming illustrate the ‘old, unchanging tradition of husbandry’. Although depicted in an Arcadian manner the narrative talks about the problems of farming the land. It is described as being ‘weary’, ‘difficult’ and in an ‘agony of thirst’. That is, ‘until there came an answer’. It is at this point that we first witness the British presence on the island. A ‘Water and Irrigation Dept.’ van is shown and we see an official proposing a scheme to the locals. Co-operation in the construction of the dam is stressed. The locals agree to raise some of the money and to provide labour; the government will finance the remainder and monitor the scheme.

The results lead us towards the final and most overtly propagandistic section of the film. The commentary declares that ‘after centuries of poverty and decay a new plan is at work to build up the fertility of the island’. In contrast with the slowly panned sequences of the opening section here we have a brisk montage featuring images of new industry and its resultant abundance. The filmmakers found this section unsatisfactory, but it was imposed upon them by their government backers.  Keene notes that ‘we felt it had no place in an otherwise simply agricultural story. But the colonial authorities insisted. It is a pity these people can never realize that the injection of a few shots of garden suburbs, ferro-concrete building and isolated factories, add nothing to the interest or effectiveness of a film of this sort’ (Keene, 1947, 72).

Although generally warmly received, the compromised nature of the film drew some criticism in reviews. The Monthly Film Bulletin wrote that ‘The latter part is quite out of place’ (MFB, March 1946, 47). The film was also criticised for ‘evading some of the important political issues which have concerned the Cypriots in recent years’ (DNL, 1946/47, 30). While on his tour of the island Lee had been told about the rape of a village girl by soldiers, and another local had informed him that ‘Cyprus did not belong to Britain, no; it was an old ship boarded by pirates, plundered, and anchored into poverty’ (Lee, 1947, 38, 55). Lee was aware, however, that in a film of this nature ‘a great deal must be left unsaid’ (Lee, 1947, 1).

Richard Osborne (March 2009)